When I Was Seventeen
by MaverickLover2
Summary: What happens to a seventeen-year-old when he discovers girls for the first time, and he's still carrying 'war wounds' from an ill-advised encounter he had at thirteen?
1. Thursday

When I Was Seventeen

Chapter 1 – _Thursday_

Sometimes the years hadn't been easy, and sometimes they'd been downright hard since Isabelle Grayson Maverick died of the fever in Little Bend, Texas. She'd left behind her two most precious possessions, her sons Bret and Bart, and the love of her life, her husband Beauregard. The three had limped through the years, clinging to each other like moss on the north side of a tree. Beauregard was a gambler of some repute and raised both boys to play the game of poker the way he did – through sheer love of the cards, and always honestly. No double deals or hideout cards, no mechanical contraptions hidden under one's coat or any of the tricks employed by most other gamblers. The Maverick reputation was for highly skilled and totally honest poker, and it was a reputation worth its weight in gold.

Bart was seventeen and Bret nineteen that summer, and while Bret had experienced more than his fair share of female attention, Bart's interaction with the fairer sex had been limited to curiosity and speculation, mostly on the female population's part. There was an incident with a girl named Cora Stampers when he was thirteen that had scared the life out of him, and he'd been shy around girls ever since. They, however, weren't shy around him. Both boys were good looking young men – Bret the darker and taller of the two, Bart lighter in color and thin as a reed. Bret had dimples that enthralled all the young ladies, and he never lacked for their companionship. Bart had eyes that the women couldn't resist – eyes that were so brown and shiny they could be described as chestnut. There was something about those eyes – 'dancing eyes' they would be called when he got older. His mother's eyes.

There were always ladies of one age or station in life around the Maverick Ranch – Beauregard, despite his unwavering love of and devotion to the departed Isabelle, was still an attractive man, and he had an assortment of lady 'friends.' Besides, he was a gentleman to all and treated each of them with the respect he believed they deserved. All of them noticed Bret, who was polite and gorgeous, and lately more and more of them had begun to see the younger brother in the same light. Bret appreciated the attention and took as much advantage of it as he dared; Bart ignored it. Until that summer.

Both brothers were riding into town on a regular basis with their father to play poker. They'd been playing in the saloons since they were both quite young and had developed into the poker players that Beauregard always knew they would be. They didn't win a lot of money by any means, but more than enough to keep them happy while they sharpened their skills. And this summer started out like any other, with one exception. Bart had taken the last test he would ever take in school – it was the first summer of never-ending freedom for him, and he was feeling just a little giddy. Maybe that's why he was more receptive to the female adulation that had begun to come his way. Especially tonight.

The Little Bend Bar wasn't the only saloon in town, but it was the favorite of all the locals, and the Mavericks had always been welcome there. Benny White, the owner of the bar, appreciated the fact that the Mavericks didn't cheat, so they never caused trouble of any kind. All three were gentlemen and the novelty of a father and his two grown sons playing poker in the same place attracted a lot of men who couldn't resist the lure of playing against any one of the three. In other words, they were something of local celebrities.

There was enough business that Benny was encouraged to hire saloon girls. Just one at first, but she stayed so busy that he eventually hired another. That's how Lolly McGee came to be employed when Bart, Bret, and Beauregard walked into the saloon this particular night.

Lolly had begun working at the LB Bar at the beginning of the week, and she'd already seen enough of the local men to know there was nobody in the town that she couldn't live without. At least, that's what she believed until the Mavericks arrived.

Beauregard came in first, and even though he was a bit older than most of the other regulars, he was still a cut above the rest of the population. Dark, dark hair turning silver, he was tall and well-built and carried himself with dignity. Not only that, he dressed well and didn't stink. Lolly thought that things were looking up.

Next in was Bret. Almost a carbon copy of his father, although a little taller and a lot younger, he had a swagger that made him a standout anywhere he went. A gorgeous smile and those killer dimples, Lolly wasn't sure her heart could stand the strain. But the parade of riches wasn't done.

Just as she was sure it was going to be a very good night, the last Maverick walked in. He was quieter and more reserved than Bret; the swagger was just beginning to develop. And he was obviously the youngest – not much older than Lolly herself, as far as she could tell. Not as tall as his brother and not built as solidly as either of the first two, there was an edge to him that the others didn't have. When he smiled he lit up the whole room, and Lolly had never seen such life in a man's eyes before. And there was no room for doubt – even though he was only seventeen, Bart Maverick was a man.

The girl thought she might faint. Who knew there were such riches in a small town like Little Bend? She was so taken with all three of the Maverick boys that she was almost beside herself. Sally June, the other working girl, headed straight for Beauregard, who greeted her with a smile and a kiss, and Sally quickly moved in on Bret. Lolly never hesitated. Before Bart could find a table and sit down she was by his side.

"You're Bart Maverick, aren't you?" She'd heard the stories about the family but had chalked them up to local lore.

The young man ducked his head and blushed. "Yes, ma'am," he answered shyly.

Lolly stuck out her hand and grabbed his, shaking it up and down. "I'm Lolly McGee. I'm new here. You gonna play poker tonight?"

"Yes, ma'am," the answer came back.

"Wanna have a drink with me first?"

Maverick turned darker red, if that was even possible. "No, ma'am. I mean no, ma'am, I don't drink."

"Not at all?" Maybe it was some kind of religious thing, Lolly thought.

"No, ma'am. I don't like the taste."

"You don't drink nothin' at all?"

"Coffee."

"Well, then, how about havin' a cup of coffee with me 'fore you get started?"

The young man looked like he'd be happier crawling into a hole than sitting down with her, but he nodded and in a barely audible voice answered, "Yes, ma'am."

Lolly turned towards the bar to order but saw that Ray Ames, the ever-present bartender, was already on his way to an empty table with two cups of coffee. Lolly almost snorted with laughter; this would be a first. Then she noticed that both of the remaining Mavericks had coffee cups sitting next to them. An entire family of teetotalers!

"You got any bad habits at all?"

For just a moment the shyness was broken, and Bart grinned. "Smoke cigars."

"I'm surprised. How long you been playin' poker?"

"My whole life," Bart answered. "Been playin' here in the LB Bar since I was ten."

"Against all these men?" Lolly asked, sure that the answer would be 'no.'

"Yes, ma'am. Beatin' 'em most of the time, too."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen in September."

Lolly giggled. "Then it's time you quit 'ma'am'n' me. I'm still sixteen."

"You are? You don't . . . I mean, I wouldn't have guessed that."

"You are a shy one, aren't you?"

"Sorry." His cheeks flared red again.

"Don't apologize. I think it's sweet." She looked him right in the eyes and smiled, and to her surprise he smiled back.

"You do?"

"Yes, sir, I do. Well, one cup a coffee is enough for me. You go ahead and find you a game, but next time you come in you have a cup a coffee with me, you hear?"

"Yes, ma'am . . . Lolly."

They both got up from the table. She went back to the bar and he sat down at a poker game. Before she knew it closing time had come and gone, and with it the Mavericks. But Bart gave her a shy glance and a smile before they left, and she smiled back.

 _Monday_

Four days later was the next time she saw him, and on Monday night it was just the two brothers that came into the saloon. They were dressed more casually but still like gentlemen, and when Bart followed his brother in those chestnut eyes were scouring the bar. He must have been looking for Lolly because as soon as he saw her he blushed and lowered his eyes. She walked right up to him, hooked her arm through his, and guided him to an empty table. Ray brought over two coffees, and the two of them sat quietly for almost five minutes before anything was said.

"Good evening, Mr. Maverick."

"Good evening, Miss McGee."

"Are you here to play poker tonight, Mr. Maverick, or are you here to see me?"

"Yes, ma'am, I am. To play poker, I mean. And to see you." He blushed again.

"That's good. That you're here to do both. Your father didn't come with you tonight?"

Bart shook his head. "No, ma'am. He's got a lady friend in town that he visits sometimes. That's where he is."

"Just one?" Lolly had done some investigation of the Maverick men, and Beauregard's reputation was fascinating. He was quite the ladies' man before he married Isabelle Grayson, but by all accounts he remained completely faithful to his wife until long years after her death. Now that his boys had grown into men he had resumed his bon vivant ways, with the understanding that every woman was to be treated like a lady and he would never marry again.

"Yes, ma'am, just one. At a time." Bart made a joke and gave her a small grin, and Lolly laughed and touched his cheek. He pulled back from her as if she'd set his skin on fire and set his empty coffee cup down on the table.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" she asked, concerned that maybe she'd accidentally scratched him.

He shook his head and started to get up from the table. "I have to find a poker game."

"Will you stop and see me before you leave tonight?" She might have been pushing things a little fast, but life was too short to hesitate. She liked this young man. He was clean and polite and beautiful to look at. And from the way he reacted to her she'd bet an entire week's wages that if he slept with her, she'd be his first. That thought intrigued her.

He blushed one last time. "My brother will never let me live it down if I do."

"I'll never let you live it down if you don't," she assured him.

That's how Lolly managed to give Bart a goodnight kiss on the cheek as he was leaving. And yes, he blushed.


	2. Wednesday

Chapter 2 – _Wednesday_

Beauregard was back with his boys when the three men entered the saloon on Wednesday. Bart, who usually came in last, walked in between his father and brother, and Lolly was precluded from slipping him away from his kin for a few minutes of coffee drinking and flirting. She was profoundly disappointed and made a point of hanging around his table for the majority of the evening. Around midnight Bart got up and walked away from the poker game, slipping out the front door for a smoke. Lolly followed him out.

"Your pa protectin' you from me?"

Bart shook his head and blew out smoke. "No, ma'am, he was aggravated with me, that's all. Didn't have nothin' to do with you."

"Aggravated with you? What for?"

"Caught me smokin' out in the barn when I was supposed to be takin' care of the horses."

"And he was aggravated?"

"Yes, ma'am. When Pappy says do somethin', he means do it right then. So he was aggravated."

Lolly reached over and took Bart's cigar, taking a draw on it and blowing the smoke out before giving it back to him. "What did I say about callin' me ma'am?"

"Sorry. It's the way I was raised. Every lady gets called ma'am."

"And I'm a lady?" She smiled prettily as she asked the question.

"Yes . . . Lolly. You are a lady."

She switched topics. "Bart . . . you've kissed a girl, haven't you?"

Lolly was surprised – he gave her an answer without blushing. "Yes."

"More than one?"

"Yes."

"Did they like it?"

He smiled when he answered her question. "Seemed to."

"Did you like it?"

He seemed to come alive, for the first time. "Sure did. Liked it a lot."

"Want to kiss me?" Lolly was standing right next to him as he finished his cigar, so close that he could touch her without too much effort.

Then he did something totally unexpected. He threw the rest of his cigar into the street, reached over with his left hand and pulled Lolly to him. In the next instant he kissed her, and what a kiss it was. Something she would never have expected from this beautiful, shy boy. And when he turned her loose, he blushed.

 _Friday_

Lolly McGee found herself going to the saloon early on Friday. She had a lot of questions about those strange Maverick men and figured there was nobody better suited to giving her answers than Ray, who'd been a bartender at the Little Bend Bar longer than she'd been alive. Ray had a daughter named Susie who'd gone to school with Bret, and Lolly was sure that Ray would give her the lowdown on the family.

She found him more resistant than she expected to. "Why do you want to know about the Mavericks?" was the first thing he asked her.

"Natural curiosity," she answered, but she could tell from the look he gave her that wasn't gonna be good enough to satisfy him.

Ray shook his head. "Not good enough."

She'd been working there over two weeks, and she'd come to know Ray pretty well in that period of time. He wasn't the brightest man she'd ever met, but Lolly would be the first to admit that she was no great intellect, either. He was a kind soul, and seemed to have a paternal attitude towards her and Sally June, who was only a couple years older than Lolly. She felt pretty confident that he wouldn't laugh at her, or spread what she told him all over town, and she gave him an honest answer.

"Because I think Bart Maverick is a sweet, sweet boy, and I'd like to get to know him better."

"How old are you, Lolly?"

"Sixteen," she answered defensively. "Why?"

"So you're younger than Bart."

"A little."

"Good." She waited for Ray to continue, but he just kept wiping down the bar. It wouldn't do any good; the bar was old and faded and had seen better days.

"Why does that matter?" she finally asked.

"A few years ago, my Susie had a friend that took an interest in Bart. He was only thirteen, and she was a couple years older, and she about scared him to death. He's kept pretty much away from girls since then. Now Bret, he's turned into a ladies man; the girls take one look at those dimples and it's all over. But Bart's stayed real shy and sticks to playin' poker. He don't need nothin' scarin' him even further into that shell of his."

Lolly was surprised to hear this; especially after Bart's kiss on Wednesday night. "I don't wanna scare him, Ray, and I sure don't wanna do nothin' to hurt him. I just wanna get to know him better."

"Maybe you just better leave him alone until he's ready to get to know you."

The girl could see she wasn't gonna get any further unless she told Ray what had already happened. "The other night, when him and his brother was here and he went outside to smoke a cigar – he kissed me, Ray."

"No."

"God's truth."

"Bart kissed you?"

"He did. And it was one heck of a kiss."

"Well, I'll be danged." Ray stopped polishing the bar. He appeared to be thinking, and she left him alone until he was ready to continue. "Alright, what do you want to know?"

For the next hour Lolly asked Ray questions, and the bartender did his best to answer her. He couldn't tell her much about Beauregard and Isabelle's life before they came to Texas, but he filled her in as best he could once they got here. How they had one son, then another, and Beau came into town and played poker on a regular basis almost every night. The illness that took the boys' mother and left them with just their pa; the struggles growing up, and that whole fateful summer when Bret did his best to marry Mary Alice Tompkins and Bart almost got corralled at thirteen by Cora Stampers. He told her about their lives since then, the closeness with Beauregard's brother Bentley and his son Beau, and their intention to leave town sometime in the near future and travel the country playing poker, just like their pa and uncle had done when they were younger. And what the looming war might mean for the brothers and their plans.

Lolly listened with rapt attention, fascinated by a life she could only imagine. She had a newfound respect for Beauregard and what he'd been through, and an increased tenderness towards the youngest son. The hour got later and the saloon got busier; when the Maverick clan finally arrived she was so busy there was no time to even talk to Bart, much less have a cup of coffee with him. She caught his eye once or twice but each time he blushed and looked away, and as the night careened towards closing time she finally realized he was avoiding her. Maybe that was best for tonight, she thought – let everything 'cool down' between them. As the poker games ended for the night and Bart got up from his table to join his father and brother who were already outside, he looked her way and smiled slightly. She blew him a kiss and waved, and he blushed and disappeared.

 _Sunday_

She knew better than to look for the brothers Maverick on Saturday night; Ray told her they never came in on Saturday. There were too many unskilled cowboys in the saloon playing poker badly, and too much potential for trouble. Beauregard had been known to turn up a time or two and he usually made a killing, though not with a gun. The brothers stayed home.

Sunday night was different than any other night so far. Bart walked in about nine o'clock, and he was alone. Not only that, he came straight to Lolly, took her by the hand, and pulled her outside. He leaned against the hitching rail and looked at her. "What do you want from me?" It was the most straightforward thing he'd said to her yet.

"I want . . . to be friends. Can we be friends?"

Even in the dark she could see him blush, and his answer was so quiet she almost didn't hear him. "If that's all you want . . ."

"I want to be friends," she insisted, and put out her hand so they could shake. First he raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it, then shook hands with her.

"Friends," he repeated, and took her by the elbow, guiding her back inside. "Ray, give the lady whatever she wants to drink. I'm buying."

"And for you?" Ray asked.

"Coffee," Bart answered.

Ray looked at Lolly and she nodded, and he poured her a cup of coffee. They sat at a table and drank their coffee, and when they were finished Bart got up and walked out of the saloon. She didn't see him again for almost a week.


	3. Friday

Chapter 3 – _Friday_

Lolly was sitting at a table by herself, playing solitaire. The saloon was almost empty and she had a glass of whiskey in front of her, untouched. The days had gone by, quiet and dull, with no sign of anyone or anything named Maverick. None of the cowboys that came into the saloon interested her, but she pretended they did and let them buy her drinks, which she accepted but didn't touch. She had to admit it, she missed the Maverick men; all three of them, but especially Bart. There was something special about him, and she was sorry that she'd said or done the wrong thing and scared him off.

Four or five cowboys came through the batwing doors and she picked up the whiskey glass. She was about to take a drink when a lone man walked in and came to stand beside her. "Wouldn't you rather have a cup of coffee?" the voice asked softly, and Lolly looked up. It was Bart.

"I would," she answered, and put the whiskey glass down. He nodded to Ray, who poured two cups of coffee and brought them over to the table. Bart sat down next to her, and she put the cards away. "I thought . . . I thought you weren't comin' back."

It took him a minute to answer her. "I wasn't."

"Then why did you?"

"I wanted some coffee."

Lolly smiled at him. "Are you gonna play poker tonight?"

"No."

"Then what are you gonna do?"

They'd had what amounted to an entire conversation, and he hadn't blushed yet. But he did now, as he answered her. "I'm gonna sit here and talk to my friend, as long as she can."

It was the quietest night they'd had at the Little Bend Bar in a long time, and Lolly McGee and Bart Maverick sat at their table and drank coffee for most of it.

 _Sunday_

Lolly was off Sunday night, but she came to the saloon anyway. She wore a dress that wasn't one of her usual outfits, and waited at the table closest to the door. It was almost eight o'clock when he walked in and offered her his arm; she stood and took it, and they walked back outside.

He'd brought the buggy and he helped her up into it, then walked around to the other side and got in. "Giddup," he crooned to the horses, and they headed north out of town.

Nothing was said until she finally asked him, "Where are we goin'?"

"To the river."

They drove on in silence, to a spot on the river that Bart hadn't visited in a long time. He helped her down out of the buggy, then picked up the blanket he'd brought and walked both of them under a tree. "I thought we . . . could sit here a spell," he told her. "It's cooler than in town."

"Its fine," she answered, and sat down after he'd spread the blanket. They sat, not touching but both looking out at the river, for a long time. Finally she asked him, "Tell me about Cora."

Bart looked over at her, startled, and she could see that familiar blush in the moonlight.

"Wha . . . wha . . . what?" he stammered.

She repeated herself. "Tell me about Cora."

"How do you know . . . ?"

"About Cora? Ray told me."

Bart sounded angry and scrambled to his feet. "Come on, we're goin' back."

Lolly refused to get up and once again said, "Tell me about Cora."

Bart walked almost ten feet away from the blanket and picked up a stone, skipping it out across the river. It bounced once, twice, three times before settling in the water. He picked up another and did the same thing, only this time it bounced four times before disappearing. He finally came back to the blanket and sat down on the very edge, talking in a soft, strained voice. "She was older than me, and a whole lot more experienced. And she tried . . . she tried . . . "

He grew silent, and Lolly thought she'd heard the last from him. He finally started up again, and this time the words just poured out of him and all ran together. "She'd already been with another boy . . . and was gonna have a baby, and she tried to get me to . . . to . . . so she could say . . .that I . . . and I almost did. And my brother saved my life."

She reached out in the moonlight and touched his cheek, and she felt him shudder and sob, and in another minute he was in her arms, crying for all he was worth. She stroked his hair and rocked him like she would a child, and crooned softly to him, "It's alright, Bart, it's alright, she can't hurt you anymore, shhhhhh, it's alright," until it seemed he was all cried out.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry," he murmured, and pulled away from her.

"You don't have to say you're sorry, you didn't do nothin' wrong. She was bad, and mean, and you're so lucky you didn't . . . well, you're lucky your brother came along. We ain't all like that, you know, I wouldn't never do nothin' to hurt you. And you ain't been with nobody since . . . have you?"

She could see him shake his head in the moonlight, and heard a whispered, "No."

"Come here . . . come here and let me hold you. Just hold you, I promise."

It took some time, but he finally came back to her, and she gathered him in her arms and held him close to her, and that's the way they spent the night, on the blanket by the river.

 _Wednesday_

Beauregard came in Monday by himself; Tuesday Bret was with him. They both smiled at her and tipped their hats, but it wasn't the same without Bart. Lolly was certain that she'd never see him again by the time Wednesday rolled around. She'd only meant to comfort him – to reassure him that not all females were like Cora Stamper and that she wanted nothing from him but friendship – if that was all he was willing to give.

When he walked in the door, following Beauregard and his brother, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He didn't look at her directly but walked straight over to the table she was sitting at and sat next to her. "Coffee?" he asked, like it was the most natural question in the world.

"Yes, please," she answered, and couldn't help but smile. She hadn't scared him away after all. Ray brought them coffee and she watched Bart as he raised the cup to his lips and drank. "I thought you was mad at me."

"Why would I be?" he asked innocently, as if nothing more than polite conversation had happened between the two of them.

"I ain't seen you since Sunday night."

He nodded his head. "I had things to . . . think about."

"You done thinkin' about 'em now?"

"Yes, ma'am. I am."

"And you come to a decision about 'em?"

"Yes, I did."

She looked in his eyes and wasn't sure what she saw there. Acceptance or rejection? "And just what did you decide?"

He hesitated just a minute before he answered her. "That I'd like to be your friend." They finished their coffee and he stood up. "I'm goin' to play poker now. When it's time to close, can I walk you home?"

She picked up the empty coffee cups and stood up, too. "Yes, you can. Friend."

 _Saturday_

Bart walked Lolly home every night that week, when poker was done and it was time to leave. They strolled arm in arm down Main Street, then right on Delmont Street, to the very last house on the left. Miss Ada's Boarding House. They said good-night at the front door, and on Friday night the shy poker player kissed her gently on the right cheek. And blushed.

Somehow she'd managed to get Saturday night off, and Bart called for her at the boarding house, right around seven-thirty in the evening. He took her to supper at the Mexican café on the far end of town, and they ate until they were stuffed. After such a meal, Bart suggested they walk along the river bank to help digest their food, and that's just what they did.

It was peaceful by the water's edge, and after a few minutes Bart reached out and took Lolly's hand in his. She was delighted but said nothing, hoping that the gesture was indicative of things to come. She'd told Bart she just wanted to be friends, hoping to allay his fears, but she really wanted more from this shy and gentle young man. He needed tenderness and affection, after the callous way he'd been treated when he was so young. And Lolly was determined that she would be the one to give it to him.


	4. Tuesday

Chapter 4 – _Tuesday_

Bret came into the LB Bar by himself on Tuesday night and walked straight to Lolly. He tipped his hat and explained, "Miss Lolly, Brother Bart is feelin' under the weather tonight and wanted me to tell you he'll be back as soon as he feels better." Then he sat down at the table with her and Ray brought them coffee.

"Bart made me promise that I'd have a cup with you before I got into a game, so you wouldn't feel deserted. I don't know what you've been doin' with him but I wanna thank you for me and Pappy. Bart's been real quiet and kinda standoffish for the last few years, and since he's become friends with you he's started to be more like his old self. He went through somethin' when he was almost too young to understand what was goin' on, and it changed him."

Lolly nodded, then surprised Bret with her remark. "Bart told me about Cora."

"He did? Well, I'm glad he did. He was beginnin' to worry us; it was long past time that he shoulda been more interested in somethin' besides poker. I'll give him your regards and tell him you'll be waitin' to see him when he's feelin' better. There's a spot over at that poker table I need to fill, so I'm gonna go now. You take care." He stood from the table and tipped his hat again, then claimed the empty seat he was after.

Lolly was sorry that Bart wasn't feeling well, but elated that he thought enough of her to send his brother with a message. It seemed like they were making progress as friends and who knew what else down the road, and she couldn't wait for him to come back to the Little Bend Bar, and her.

 _Monday_

It took far longer than anybody thought it would take for Bart to get over whatever had assailed him, and it was almost a week before he reappeared at the saloon. Beauregard and Bret were polite to Lolly but there were no more messages from the younger Maverick and no more cups of coffee from the other two. Lolly was on the verge of giving up hope when a familiar figure appeared on Monday night. A little thinner, if that was even possible, he still didn't look completely well, but she was so happy to see him that she didn't care. They met at a table and before Ray could even bring coffee over, Lolly had thrown her arms around the young gambler and kissed him on the cheek. Naturally, he blushed.

"I missed you somethin' awful," Lolly explained. "I didn't know you was so sick."

"I didn't either," he answered, "Until I was. Bret kept tellin' me he'd seen you, and you looked unhappy."

"I was unhappy. You weren't here. You feelin' better now?"

Bart sipped his coffee before answering. "Yep, almost feel good enough to play poker tonight." He watched her face, and when she smiled at him, he smiled back. There was something about this girl that made him feel comfortable, and content; ways he'd never felt around Cora. And she had no idea how pretty she was, with her long, dark hair and shiny blue eyes. Oh, she flirted around with cowboys in the saloon and got them to spend their money buying her drinks, all the things she was supposed to do, but her affection for Bart Maverick was real, and he returned the feelings.

He played poker that night and won a lot, for him at least. Almost sixty dollars. He wanted to do something nice for her, and all the way home he kept trying to think of ways to make her happy. He decided to visit the general store the next time he went to town with Pappy; there was bound to be the perfect gift for her there. He whistled while riding home that night; Beauregard and Bret both noticed the difference that seeing Lolly made.

 _Thursday_

It was Wednesday before the Mavericks went into Little Bend for supplies, and Bart spent a good portion of his time searching for just the right gift. When he was satisfied he'd found what he was after, he made up his mind to give it to her that night, but he forgot to put it in his saddlebag and had to wait another day.

He carried something with him when he walked her to the boarding house and handed the little package to her as they got to the door. "What's this?" Lolly asked him, and he smiled.

"Somethin' I thought you'd like. Open it." He hoped it would please her, and couldn't wait for her to see it.

Lolly opened the wrapping carefully. It was the first time she'd ever gotten a present that wasn't from her ma and pa. She was thrilled when she realized the packaged contained ribbons for her hair, three different long lengths in blue, red and pink. "They're beautiful," she murmured, fingering them as carefully as if they were made of gold. And before he had a chance to protest, Lolly had thrown her arms around the young man's neck and kissed him. What surprised them both was when he kissed her back. They stepped apart for a moment before Bart pulled the girl back into his arms and kissed her again. She was almost breathless by the time the kiss finished.

"I didn't expect . . . oh my," was all she could say. "Thank you."

"I thought . . . I thought they'd look pretty . . . in your hair." He still had his arms around her and was showing no signs of letting go.

"But why? You didn't have to . . . "

"I wanted to," he finished. And then he leaned in and kissed her again. And this time he didn't blush.

 _Friday_

When Bart got to the LB Bar that night he didn't see her at first, and his heart was on the verge of being broken until she stepped out of the back room. She had on the prettiest pink dress he'd ever seen, and her hair was piled up on top of her head. With the pink ribbon that he'd given her wound through all the curls and twists.

His smile was the most genuine she'd ever experienced. It made her feel something inside to know that his making her happy had made him happy, and she met him at one of the tables for their usual cup of coffee. They talked quietly for a few minutes while they drank their beverage and then Bart found a poker game that looked interesting and Lolly began her job for the night. It was understood that when the night was over, the gambler would walk the saloon girl home.

They never got a chance. Before too many poker games had been played a drunken cowhand wandered into the Little Bend Bar, already loud and obnoxious before he ever touched another drink. Ray really didn't want to sell him any more whiskey; he was just the kind of troublemaker that ended up in a brawl of some sort. Benny, the saloon owner, wasn't there at the moment, and Ray didn't believe he had the right to throw the cowboy out. So the saddle tramp and the two friends with him continued to drink, and it wasn't too long before he'd decided life was no fun unless you were making somebody else miserable. And Lolly became his target.

He tried to buy her a drink, and she politely declined the libation. Then he wouldn't leave her alone, so she accepted the offer and did her usual, which was take the drink and then dump the liquor the first chance she got. Ray kept a small bucket at the end of the bar for just such an occurrence. But the cowboy, whose name was Donny, kept insisting she have another. And another, and another, and another. When Lolly finally tried to hide behind the bar with Ray for a while, Donny made a grab for her and caught her hair, pulling it tumbling down her back and hooking the pink ribbon between his fingers. Then while Lolly cried and begged for her ribbon back, he dropped it on the ground and dug his dirty boots into it, ruining the decoration beyond repair.

Ray was just about ready to do the unthinkable – run the drunk out of the bar, no matter the consequences, when someone else stepped in. A young gambler with a winning poker hand folded, stood up quickly and spun Donny around so fast the cowboy never saw it coming – the left hook and the right cross. And the seventeen-year-old put the cowboy, at least temporarily, out of his misery.

Everything stopped. You could hear Beauregard suck in his breath, and Bret let out a shout. Bart shook his right hand, which hurt like hell, and grinned sheepishly. He looked right at his father and proclaimed, "There's only two times in a man's life that he should be noble. When he's caught dealing seconds, and somebody hurts a lady." Beauregard nodded and went back to the poker game he was playing.

The gambler and the bartender put their heads together and agreed that the saloon girl should have the rest of the night off. Bart gathered Lolly, sobbing mess and all, and walked her gently out the batwing doors. The pink ribbon lay on the ground, dirty and ruined, under the comatose cowboy. "Send for the sheriff," was the last thing the couple heard as they left the saloon.


	5. Friday, Continued

Chapter 5 – _Friday, Continued_

Bart got Lolly up on his horse and climbed up behind her, then headed the stallion towards the river. They rode for almost twenty minutes, Lolly sobbing the whole way while Bart tried to comfort her. "I'll buy you another ribbon," he told her, and she cried harder.

"Don't want another ribbon. Want that one," was all he could get out of her, until they were almost at their destination. That's when he finally heard her murmur, "Why?"

"Why what?" he asked, not sure what she meant.

"Why'd he have to do that?" At least she wasn't sobbing anymore.

"That's what too much whiskey can do to you. That's another reason I don't drink. It ain't pretty, what you'll do when you get too much of the stuff in you." Bart spoke from experience, having been through it himself. He'd learned the hard way what a painful event liquor could be.

"It was just mean."

The young man brought the stallion to a halt and slid down off his backside. Then he reached up and helped Lolly to the ground. He turned her to face him before answering her remark. "Yes, it was mean. But some men are mean before they ever touch a drop of rotgut. Maybe he's one of 'em. And maybe he was just drunk and outta control." He paused for a moment, thinking it over. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you."

"You? Why would you embarrass me? Lord only knows what he mighta done if you hadn't been there." She buried herself in his arms, with her head on his chest, and he held her with one arm and pulled down his bedroll with the other.

"Let's find a spot and sit awhile, alright?" he asked while guiding her towards the trees that bordered the river's edge. She stayed close to him while he found a place to lay the blanket, then sat down and leaned into him again. His back to a tree, he held her close and remained silent until he heard her sigh. "Better now?"

"A little. I'm sorry about your poker game."

"Hmpf. Don't worry, it wasn't no great loss."

"Did you get your money before we left?"

The money hadn't even crossed his mind. "Nope. Pappy'll get it for me, or Bret."

There was real concern in her voice. "What if they don't?"

He shrugged. "Then I'll start over again. The money ain't important." That was quite a statement, for him. There was almost forty dollars in the pot, and Bart was sure he had the winning hand. It hadn't mattered in the moment he saw her being abused, and it didn't matter now.

"But it . . . "

"Shhhh. It ain't important."

Lolly knew it was important, but at that moment she believed him. He'd been so gallant, so brave, jumping up to defend her and knocking the drunk out. And he'd handled himself like – not like a seventeen-year-old boy. Like a man. Her man? Maybe not yet, but her friend and protector. In gratitude and sheer emotion, Lolly reached up and kissed him. And when he kissed her back, it was the man and not the boy that did so.

 _Saturday Morning_

Pappy and Bret were both still awake and sitting at the kitchen table when he walked into the house the next morning. "There he is, the brave warrior," his brother teased, and Pappy glared at Bret.

"You alright, boy?"

Bart nodded and poured himself a cup of coffee. He was tired, totally worn out, having been awake all night comforting Lolly. And he had no idea what kind of wrath he might face from Pappy. Beauregard might be totally understanding – or whale the living daylights out of him. He sat down at the table, across from his brother and next to his father, and waited.

No one spoke for several minutes. Bret got up from the table and poured more coffee for himself and their father, and still Bart waited. Finally, "I got your poker money. Twenty-six dollars."

"Thanks, Pappy."

"How's your hand?" Bret asked. "That was some punch you threw."

"Sore. Bout like when I dropped the fence post on it."

Beauregard cleared his throat. "What were you thinkin'? He had you by fifty pounds and ten years."

"And at least eight or ten shots of whiskey," his brother added softly.

Bart ignored Bret's remark and answered Pappy instead. "I wasn't. All I could see . . . was him hurtin' Lolly."

Beau watched his youngest son. "Nobility is overrated."

"I wasn't dealin' seconds," Bart answered quietly.

It was a lost cause, and Beauregard knew it. "Watch yourself. Dooley hauled him off to jail, but he had two friends with him, and they won't let him forget that you gave him a beat down."

"Yes, Pappy. I'll be careful. I don't know about y'all, but I'm tired. I'm goin' to bed."

Bret stood from the table and pulled his younger brother to his feet. "C'mon, Galahad, let's go." The two young men headed towards the bedroom as Beau watched them; by the time they were out of sight a small smile had inched its way across his face. _'Let's hope that's the end of it,'_ he thought.

 _Sunday_

Lolly was ready and waiting when Bart picked her up in the buggy. She'd worked all afternoon and taken the night off; they drove east towards Sultana with a picnic basket full of Lily Mae's fried chicken and various other goodies. Lily Mae Connors was Bentley Maverick's housekeeper and had served as the brothers' surrogate mother ever since theirs died. Ben was Pappy's younger brother, and Lily Mae lived at his house less than two miles from Beauregard's.

It was a beautiful night. The moon promised to be full and high in the sky; the stars were already out in full force and about as bright as they could get. Lolly still wasn't completely over what happened on Friday at the LB Bar, but her mood was as bright as the stars. Her hair was pulled back from her face and tied with the red ribbon Bart had given her, and she wore a simple red dress. He wanted to buy her a new pink ribbon to replace the one Donny had stolen from her and destroyed, but he was fearful that every time she looked at it she'd remember the incident, and he didn't want to remind her. So he'd decided that on the next shopping trip he would find something else for her.

"Chicken smells delicious," the girl remarked as they drove.

"It will be. Lily Mae's a great cook. I thought it'd be nice to have a leisurely dinner and relax. Not like we usually do when we eat." Sometimes they grabbed a quick meal together before Lolly went to work and Bart started poker, and it was always a hurried affair. Tonight they could take their time and enjoy themselves. "How you feelin'?"

"Good." Pause. "Well, better than I did. I keep waitin' for the cowboy to come back, but so far he hasn't."

"Better not show his face in there. At all."

It took less than an hour for Bart to find the small lake on the way to Sultana; then he located the grove of Desert Willow Trees that provided the perfect setting for their picnic. He spread the blanket and helped Lolly from the buggy, retrieved the picnic basket and grinned at the girl. "I don't know about you, but I'm starved. Let's eat."

Some time later, stuffed full of Lily Mae's fried chicken, Bart lay with his head enfolded in the skirt of Lolly's red dress, smiling happily. He had trouble remembering just a few short weeks ago, when he was almost afraid to look at her, much less talk to her. All thoughts of the debacle that had occurred those many years ago with Cora Stampers were gone, and all he could think of was how content he felt. He wondered if this was the way his brother Bret had felt about Mary Alice Tomkins, the girl he tried so hard to marry at age fifteen. The sound of Lolly's voice brought him back from his ruminations, and he looked up at her. "You either have to talk louder or come closer where I can hear you," were the words out of his mouth, and it didn't take her long to make a decision. She wiggled around and the next thing he knew he was looking into her bright blue eyes, and her lips were right in front of him. She was welcoming and soft in his arms, and rather than pulling away from him she pressed closer. A delicious warmth began to spread through his body, and it didn't take long for all thought to leave both of their minds. And neither one was afraid.


	6. Monday

Chapter 6 – _Monday_

Lolly was at the Little Bend Bar as usual on Monday evening when the Mavericks walked in – first Beauregard, then Bret, and finally the youngest, Bart. Everyone looked the way they usually did when they arrived, and it would have taken someone who knew him extremely well to see a change in the youngest, but the change was there. He walked differently, with just a touch of his older brother's swagger, and there was a look in his eyes that hadn't been there before – a look of confidence, of bravado, of understanding the world and the way it works. All of the vestiges of the boy were gone, and in their place were the trappings of a man.

The girl saw it as soon as there was eye contact. He stood tall and proud as he made his way to her, and when he arrived he kissed her hand and did not blush. "Coffee?" he asked casually, as if the question was the most natural in the world, and she nodded and sat at the table. He went to the bar and retrieved the cups from Ray himself and was soon seated next to her.

"You look . . . different," she told him, and he nodded.

"I feel different. More . . . alive. Better than I have in ages. And it's all because of you."

This time Lolly blushed. It had been wonderful for her, so much better than any of the other times. He made her feel . . . special. Important. Like she was more than just a saloon girl. As if everything about her mattered, not the way any of the other men had made her feel. And something else, but she couldn't quite name it. "Are you glad . . . ?" She left the rest of the question unspoken.

"Yes. It was . . . it was perfect." He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips, then drank some of his coffee. "Walk you home after work?" he asked, taking nothing for granted.

"Of course," she answered. They sat with each other until their coffee was gone, then Lolly took the empty cups back to Ray; Bart found himself a poker game and joined it. Monday was the quietest night of the week at the saloon, and this one proved to be no exception. Bret's game ended first, then Beauregard's, and they both left for breakfast; Bart's wound down just as Ray was getting ready to close. The poker game was as quiet as the night, with Bart winning all of seventeen dollars and forty cents, but a win was a win and he wasn't about to complain.

As soon as Lolly was ready to go the two teenagers left, walking quietly down the darkened street with Bart's stallion trailing behind them, the way they always did. They had just turned right onto Delmont Street when three shadowy figures jumped out from behind the nearest building; Donny the drunken cowboy and his two compatriots. The two friends caught Bart and held him; Donny made a grab for Lolly but she evaded him and ran for her life, back towards town. Bart's horse broke free and spooked as he was, headed for home.

Donny fully intended to teach the young man a lesson he'd never forget – and proceeded to beat him while his 'friends' attempted to keep Maverick helpless. Somehow he managed to free his right arm and landed a punch to Donny's jaw; it only served to infuriate the saddle tramp. "Hold him still," Donny directed, and both men struggled to do as told while the young gambler tried to break free. It was no use – three fully-grown men against a seventeen-year-old were too overwhelming, even for a Maverick, and it didn't take long before the boy was a bloody mess and unconscious.

"That's enough, Donny," the one named Matthew told him. "He's just a kid."

"Kid, my ass," came the reply as the saddle tramp landed one more bone-crushing blow to the stomach.

Matthew let go of the boy's arms and so did Len, the other friend, allowing Bart to drop unceremoniously to the ground. Before they could pull Donny away he kicked the gambler in the ribs, and then all three ran when they heard shouting. Lolly had gone back to the saloon to get Ray and then up the street to the café to retrieve the other two Mavericks, who came running as fast as they could. The three saddle tramps were almost out of sight by the time help arrived.

Beauregard got to his youngest son first and gently turned him over. Bart's face was battered and cut; his left eye was black and his lips were swollen. "Go wake up Dr. Patterson, Ray," Beau barked out, and Ray did as told. Bret ran after the three fleeing men. Lolly dropped to her knees, crying, and cradled the young man's head in her lap.

"Oh, Bart, I'm so . . . sorry," she sobbed.

Beauregard wasted no time – he gathered his son off the ground into his arms and headed for the doctor's office. Lolly struggled to her feet and ran after him, picking up Bart's hat from where it had fallen and taking it with her. He was still unconscious by the time they arrived at Doc Patterson's.

His father carried him through the front door and into the exam room, where the doctor had already prepared a spot. "There's a lotta blood," Beau explained. "Too much to tell how bad he's hurt." He lay Bart down gently on the table, while Lolly hovered silently in the background.

Doc started wiping away some of the blood immediately. "What happened?"

"That no-good son of a bitch that went after the girl last week – the one Bart put down – him and his two friends jumped my boy. Three grown men against a seventeen-year-old, Doc," Beauregard spit out between clenched teeth. "I'll kill 'em. I swear to God I'll kill 'em all."

The exam room door opened again and Bret appeared, with Ray Ames right behind him. Bret was panting and out of breath. "Caught one of 'em," Ray explained. "Other two got away."

"What'd you do with him?" Beau demanded.

"Turned him over . . . to Dooley," Bret managed to get out. "He knows where the three of 'em hang out and . . . he's goin' after the other two."

"Not if I get there first," the Maverick patriarch insisted. He turned to leave just as Bart let out a moan, and he stopped dead in his tracks. "Doc?" Beau pleaded.

"Everybody out of here," Patterson insisted, but no one moved. "Go on, get out."

Ray grabbed Bret by the arm but Bret shrugged him off. "Ain't goin' nowhere. That's my little brother."

Next the bartender looked at Lolly, who was standing on the far side of the exam table. "Miss Lolly?" he asked.

The girl shook her head. "He fought 'em so I could run. I ain't leavin' either."

"Go on home, Ray, and thanks for the help," Beau said, without turning away from the prone form of his son, lying on the exam table while Doc attempted to see how much actual damage there was. "You did your best."

Ray nodded and left the exam room, pulling the door closed behind him.

Doctor Patterson appealed to Beauregard, "Help me get his coat and shirt off – I need to see those ribs. I think they're broken."

Beau nodded and helped the doctor partially undress his youngest, while Bret pulled Lolly gently back from the table and sat her down in the nearest chair. "This ain't gonna be pretty if his ribs are broke, but I imagine you've seen him without his shirt already."

Lolly glanced at the ground and blushed faintly, then looked right back up. She said nothing but smiled slightly. Last night seemed like so long ago. Bret was right, it wasn't pretty. Rapidly discoloring areas covered most of Bart's ribs and chest, and she could hear Doctor Patterson's breath catch in this throat.

Beauregard groaned when he saw his youngest son's body, and Bret reached out a hand to clasp his father's shoulder. "Steady, Pappy," he intoned. Beau nodded and Lolly watched as his whole body stiffened, and he stood ramrod straight. "He looked worse when he fell off the barn roof," Bret reminded his father, and again Beau could only nod.

The doctor poked and prodded until he finally got a response out of Bart, which was nothing more than a pitiful sounding, protracted moan. "Stop it, Henry," Beauregard chastised the doctor. "Don't make the boy hurt any more than he already does."

"I got to have him awake so I know for sure what's broke and what's not," Doc Patterson asserted.

"I'm awake," the body on the exam table finally murmured. "And they're broke."

"How about this? And this? And this?" Each question was accompanied by a touch to the rib being asked about and a small moan from the boy. A loud yell accompanied three ribs on the left side. "Well, that's that. Three on the left, none on the right. Gonna have to wrap those ribs, Bart, in order for them to heal."

"What about his face, Henry?"

"Nothing that won't heal just fine. Mostly superficial. Ugly but superficial. I'd say ten days, two weeks for everything but the ribs – they'll take longer. He's lucky, Beau. It could have been a lot worse."

Lolly stood up and leaned over Bart's head, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I'm here, Bart," she whispered, and he tried to smile.

"You alright?" he asked through clenched teeth, and with his eyes still clamped closed.

"I'm fine," she replied. "You saved me from them."

"Good."

"Bart, Dooley wants a positive identification. Was it Donny Youngblood, the cowboy from the saloon?" Bret asked carefully.

"Yes," his brother answered. "And he had Matt . . . Longworth and Len . . . somebody with him."

"Len Deekins?"

"That's it."

"Who beat you?" Beauregard cut in.

It took just a minute to answer. "Donny. It was . . . all Donny. The other two . . . just stopped me from fightin' back."

Bret laid his hand on his father's shoulder once again. "I'm goin' to Dooley and tell him so he can catch Longworth and Youngblood. I'll be back soon." He looked across the exam table at Lolly. "I'll take you home when I come back."

The girl shook her head. "I'm stayin' here until he goes home with y'all."

Beauregard opened his arms and Lolly migrated into them. He kissed the top of the girl's head the way he would when comforting a child. "You're fine right where you are, girl. We'll take you home when we take Bart back to the ranch. You did a good thing, runnin' for help. Bart'd thank you, if'n he could. And I thank you." The girl looked up at the Maverick patriarch and swore she saw a tear in his eye. Beauregard would deny it later, but Lolly knew better. No matter how tough and disagreeable he could be, Beauregard Maverick loved his boys fiercely.


	7. Sunday, Three Weeks Later

Chapter 7 – _Sunday, Three Weeks Later_

Lolly had Sunday off, and Ray loaned her a horse so she could visit Bart. She'd seen him once since the beating had taken place and she missed him desperately. Besides, she wanted to let him know what was happening with the three scoundrels who had assaulted him.

When she arrived at the Maverick Ranch she was surprised to find the injured man sitting on the porch in a rocking chair, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. His face was almost healed, with just a bit of discoloration around his left eye, and he was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt, with socks on his feet but no boots. His smile grew big when he saw her; Lolly dismounted before he had a chance to try and stand up. "You stay right where you are," she told him laughingly. "Don't want nothin' happenin' to those ribs."

She was in the rocking chair next to him, kissing and gently hugging, before he had time to think. "Sure am glad to see you," Bart finally got out in between kisses. "It's been way lonely without you here."

"Where's your pa and brother?"

"Out in the barn. Bret's mare's foaling, and he went out to see if she needed help. Then Pappy followed. They left me here to guard the porch."

Lolly laughed and nodded. "Good thing they did, what would they do if somebody snuck up on it?"

Bart leaned his head back and looked at the girl. "You're in a way better mood than you were the last time you was here."

"Of course I am. You look a whole lot better than you did then, and I bet you feel a whole lot better, too."

"I have to admit, I'm beginnin' to feel like myself again. How're you?"

"I'm fine." She laid her head on his shoulder, but he could tell there was something not quite right from the tone of her voice.

"What's wrong, Lolly? What ain't you tellin' me?"

She was quiet for a minute or two before she answered him. "It's . . . it's those cowboys. You know, that Donny fella and his friends. They got thirty days in jail for what they did to you, and their times almost up. And I'm scared. What happens when they get out?"

That was a question he didn't have an answer for. "I don't know. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I can't see why they'd bother you . . . it's me they'd be after. If they was after somebody, that is."

"But what if they do? Come after me, I mean."

"Maybe I ought to go into town and talk to Dooley, see what he's got to say." Dooley was Frank Dooley, the Deputy Sheriff. He'd taken over when the previous sheriff left town for another job. Dooley was a nice enough fellow and made a good Deputy, but the town council had not seen fit to appoint him sheriff. And they had yet to hire anyone to fill the vacancy.

"What can he do?"

Bart shook his head gently. "I don't know, but I can find out. Go to the barn and see if that foal's born yet. I wanna talk to my brother."

Lolly kissed him on the cheek and went scurrying into the barn. She caught sight of Bret, leaning over the stall like a proud papa, then Beauregard, then the brand new bay foal. Bret turned when he heard her. "Lolly, we've got a new arrival!"

"I see that. Bart asked if you'd come out when you're done. He needs to talk to you."

"Does it hafta be me or can Pappy do it? I kinda wanna stay with Lucinda and the filly for a while."

Beauregard walked away from the stall. "Come on, girl, let's go see what the invalid wants." He even managed a small smile as he offered his arm to Lolly and she took it. They chatted amiably as they walked back to the house.

"What do you need, boy?" Beau asked when he got within earshot.

"Where's Bret?" the still recovering man asked.

"Playin' papa in the barn. Got him a bay filly. What did you want him for?"

Bart explained Lolly's concerns and his desire to speak with Deputy Dooley himself. "And you know I can't drive the buggy or the wagon yet, Pa. Could somebody take me into town?"

Beauregard gave it some thought before he answered. "I don't see why not. I'll take ya in if you can go now. I ain't goin' in to play poker tonight . . . I need a night off. I wanna be home after dark. You ready?"

"Need some help with my boots, Pappy," Bart grinned. Because his ribs were still wrapped, he couldn't bend over to pull them on.

"I'll get 'em. Miss Lolly, we'll tie your horse to the back of the buggy. That alright with you?"

The girl nodded her head. "Yes, sir."

Beauregard disappeared into the house and was gone more than five minutes. When he finally reappeared he carried only one boot. "What the heck did you do with your other boot? I can only find one."

Bart looked sheepish when he answered. "Look on the bed."

"The bed? You sleepin' with your boots now?"

"Sorry, Pa. I forgot it was there."

Beau just shook his head and returned to the house. Lolly did her best to stifle a laugh, and Bart grinned. When Beauregard got back to the porch he had both boots in his hands. "I swear, if I didn't know better I'd think you was touched."

"Here, give 'em to me," Lolly held out her hands. "I'll put 'em on for him."

Beau went back to the barn to hitch up the buggy, and Lolly helped Bart with his boots. In just a few minutes they were on their way into Little Bend, with the borrowed horse trailing along behind them. The girl sat next to Bart, and he held her hand the whole way.

They stopped at the Sheriff's Office and Beau went in to fetch Dooley. In less than five minutes the two men were back outside. "I'm goin' to the tobacco store, be back in a few," Beauregard informed them, and set off down the boardwalk.

"You're lookin' a whole lot better, Bart. What can I do for you?"

"Cowboys oughta be gettin' outta jail in a few days, shouldn't they, Dooley?"

The deputy nodded. "Yep, less than ten days now. Somethin' botherin' you?"

Bart and Lolly exchanged glances. "You heard 'em doin' any threatening? I'm worried for Lolly."

Dooley removed his hat and scratched his head. "No, not really. They was plenty mad when they first got throwed in jail, but they ain't talked about nothin' recently but gettin' out and goin' to California."

The young man looked slightly less concerned. "You think they mean it? About goin' to California?"

"If they don't they're sure makin' a lotta plans for nothin.' I don't think they're gonna stick around once they're free, Bart. I can send notice out to ya the day before they're released so you can be on the lookout for 'em just in case. Miss Lolly, I'll let you know, too. That way at least you'd be prepared."

"Thanks, Dooley, that sure helps."

The deputy tipped his hat and went back inside the office. Bart and Lolly were left, still holding hands, in the buggy. "How long before Doc unwraps your ribs?" the girl asked.

"Another week. He says they're comin' along real good. I can't wait . . . there's somethin' I been wantin' to do."

Lolly smiled shyly while asking him, "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Take another drive up towards Sultana and . . . you know."

The girl kept smiling. "We don't have to go all the way to Sultana to do that. I know a spot on the other side of the river that's a lot easier to get to."

At last Bart smiled right along with her, and he gripped her hand tightly. "That's a great idea. I wanna . . . I wanna be with you again. I never expected . . . "

"I know, neither did I. It was . . . perfect."

"It was?" he asked incredulously. "I never . . . you know. I'm glad it was with you." Most of his shyness and awkwardness gone, still there was some 'boy' left inside the man, and he blushed.

Lolly reached up and stroked his cheek. "Me, too. You're sweet, Bart Maverick. Don't ever change."


	8. Saturday Morning

Chapter 8 – _Saturday Morning_

The bandages came off Bart's ribs before the cowboys were released from jail. Lolly went to Doctor Patterson's office with him and sat in the exam room while Doc unwrapped his ribs. All the ugly purple bruising was gone, and just some minor discoloration remained. "How do they feel?" Doc asked as he poked and prodded the young gambler.

"Little tender in a couple spots, but pretty good," Bart answered. He looked over at Lolly and grinned. "A lot better than they felt a few weeks ago."

"Alright, I guess there's not much more I can do for you. Be careful with 'em, and come back to see me in a couple weeks." The doctor turned to the girl. "And don't you be doin' nothin' to aggravate them, you hear?"

"Yes, sir, Doctor Patterson. I wouldn't think of it."

Lolly helped Bart put his shirt back on, then took his hand and walked out of the doctor's office with him. "When do you have to be at the saloon?" he asked.

"Not until eight o'clock," came Lolly's reply. "You have something in mind?"

Bart's head bobbed up and down. "I do. Want to go down to the river?"

"To that little spot I told you about?"

"Yes, ma'am. If you want to, that is."

She smiled and squeezed his hand. "There's nothing I'd rather do."

 _Saturday Afternoon_

They lay on the blanket wrapped in each other's arms, exhausted but happy. Lolly was right, the place she'd led Bart to on the far side of the river was even more secluded than the Desert Willows on the way to Sultana. Their lovemaking had been gentle and tender; Lolly didn't want to hurt Bart's ribs, and Bart wanted to be nothing but sweet and considerate to Lolly. It was even better than the first time.

"What are you thinkin'?" he asked the girl.

"That I never knew . . . I just never knew it could be this good."

That seemed a strange statement to him. He had no illusions about Lolly – it had been evident from the start of their friendship that even at the tender age of sixteen, Bart wasn't the first man in her life. But she'd told him that he was the best, in so many words. It didn't seem possible that a seventeen-year-old boy could be . . . and yet she appeared sure of it.

"Lolly . . . that's an awful big . . . statement. To make about me, I mean. I'm only seventeen. Surely there was somebody else . . . "

"No." Lolly was insistent. "There's never been . . . you're someone special."

He pulled her a little closer and kissed her forehead. Bless her heart, at least she thought so. "I'm sure you are, too."

"Bart . . . what now? Where do we go from here? You don't wanna stay in Little Bend your whole life, and I wanna be somethin' more than a saloon girl. What's next?"

"I don't know, Lolly. The whole country's so upset . . . and if there's war . . . I sure don't wanna fight."

"We could go to California."

Her choice of words alarmed him, but he did his best not to react. And it wasn't California that bothered him, it was 'we.' He wasn't in love with Lolly; he'd never pretended to be. He liked the girl and was more than grateful to her. He'd been so confused by Cora Stampers at thirteen that he might never have recovered from her machinations if it weren't for Lolly . . . but he had no intention of leaving Texas with anybody but his brother. And certainly not a girl . . . even the one lying so peacefully in his arms.

"I ain't ready to go anywhere."

"Even with me?"

It was the wrong question, at the wrong time, asked by the wrong person. And there was no way around answering it and being honest without hurting her feelings.

"Not with anybody."

She stiffened and pulled out of his embrace. Quickly she sat up, although she didn't move away from Bart. She'd opened her heart to him, and told him her biggest dream – that maybe he'd love her, or at least care enough about her to see that the best thing for both of them was to leave Texas and start over somewhere else. And he'd rejected it. Not only rejected it but done so almost without thought. For just a moment she thought ' _Maybe it's his age. He's just too young to leave home.'_ But she was almost two years younger than him, and she'd left home a long time ago.

He'd told her he wasn't ready to leave Texas, but even more important than that, he'd told her something else. He'd told her he wasn't in love with her. And even though she already knew that, still it hurt.

"You okay?" he asked as she shifted her weight away from him.

"I'm . . . fine." It was a lie, and they both knew it. But as soon as she'd said the words, she knew that it was too late to take them back. And too late to change them.

 _Saturday Night_

Bart had been quiet all evening, and when Pappy proposed a three-handed poker game, the youngest Maverick begged off, claiming he was tired. "Even if it's Red Dog?" Pappy asked. That was quite a concession to Bart's frame of mind, as Pappy hated Red Dog and suggested it just to entice participation.

"No, thanks," the surprising answer came back quickly, and Bret knew there was something wrong. "I'm goin' to bed."

One brother followed the other into the bedroom. "You ain't goin' to bed too, are ya?"

Bret shook his head as he sat down on his bed. "Nope. I just came in so we could talk."

Bart kicked off his boots, then peeled off his shirt and pants before pulling the covers back on his bed. "Don't wanna talk." He crawled under the blankets and turned his back to his brother.

"What happened after Doc Patterson unwrapped your ribs?" There was no answer, and Bret tried again. "What happened after Doc unwrapped your ribs, Bart?"

A muffled voice asked, "Whatta you think happened?"

That's what Bret suspected. Nice to know his brother was a healthy seventeen-year-old. "And what happened after that?"

"Nothin'."

"Brother Bart, that's a lie, and we both know it. Thought you weren't gonna lie to me."

Bart rolled over to face his brother. "Might as well tell you the truth. Can't get a lie past you no how."

"So what happened?"

It took Bart a minute to answer his brother. "Lolly suggested we leave Little Bend and head for California."

"We?"

"We."

"She meant you and her."

"Of course."

"What did you tell her?"

Another minute went by. "That I wasn't ready to go nowhere."

"How'd she take it?"

"Not well."

"Did you explain . . . ?"

Bart sat up in bed. "It didn't matter what I told her, Bret. Her feelin's are hurt. She'll never speak to me again."

"How do you know that?"

"She just finished tellin' me . . . oh, never mind. I just know it. What am I gonna do now?"

"You mean now that you discovered . . . girls?"

"Not just that. She was my friend, and I ruined it, Bret. I ruined it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." He stared down at the bed. "I took her to the saloon and she never even talked to me."

"Ouch. How'd you leave it?"

"I said good-bye, and she just got out of the buggy. Went inside without lookin' back."

"You may be right. Sounds like she's mad at you."

"She's past mad. She's hurt." Bart lay back down. "I really am tired, Bret. I'm goin' to sleep now, alright?"

Bret got up from the bed and turned off the kerosene lamp. "Goodnight, Brother Bart."

A forlorn voice answered, "Goodnight, Brother Bret."


	9. Sunday

Chapter 9 – _Sunday_

Lolly was usually off on Sunday, so Bart rode into Little Bend and went to Miss Ada's Boarding House. Miss Ada herself answered the door and was polite, but informed Bart that Lolly had left early that morning and had yet to return. Next he stopped at the Little Bend Bar and talked to Ray, who hadn't seen Lolly since Saturday night when the bar closed down.

Bart begged off going back into town to play poker and stayed home Sunday night. He tried to sleep but couldn't, and was still awake when Beauregard and Bret got home Monday morning. He had coffee waiting for them and set about fixing breakfast as soon as he learned they hadn't stopped to eat before returning home. The meal was almost over before he asked the question he'd been waiting to ask. "Was Lolly at the saloon?"

Bret shook his head 'no, ' but Pappy gave him a longer answer. "Ray said she was off last night but he expected her to be at work tonight. You goin' with us?"

"Yep," was the extent of Bart's reply.

Bart had cooked so Bret cleaned up, then followed his brother back into their bedroom. "You didn't find Lolly yesterday?"

"Nope. Checked her boarding house and she hadn't been home all day. Ray hadn't seen her, either."

"What are you gonna do?" After what happened almost four years ago with Cora Stampers and the havoc her pursuit of the youngest Maverick created, Bret was protective of his brother; especially when it came to girls. And without intending to, Lolly McGee was making life difficult for both of the Maverick brothers.

"I don't know, Bret. I can't give her what she wants; I ain't leavin' with her for California."

"Do you love the girl?"

"No."

"Awful quick answer. Not even a little?"

"No."

"But you didn't set out to hurt her."

"I didn't set out to do anything with her. She's the one that pursued me, remember? She swore she just wanted to be friends. And then she wanted more, and I ain't ready to give it."

"Then you gotta cut her loose."

Bart sat down on his bed, with his brother right next to him. He was quiet for more than a minute before he spoke. "I do, don't I?"

"Yes, you do. For her sake, if not yours. She wants you to love her, and you don't. And she ain't gonna let go of you, as long as there's a chance you might. So as long as you can't, it's time to end the whole thing."

"I ain't sure I can play poker in the LB Bar with her workin' there."

"There's other saloons in town. We can all go someplace else."

Bart shook his head. "No, that ain't fair to you or Pappy. If somebody's gotta find a new place to play poker, it should be me."

"Just try it one night, if she's there tomorrow. If it don't work we'll talk about it on the way home and figure out what to do. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

 _Monday_

Monday night was no different than most of the previous Monday nights had been. Around eight o'clock three men walked in the batwing doors; three men that looked like they were there on serious business – in this case, poker. The men were a father and his two sons – Beauregard, Bret, and Bart. Beau and his first born, Bret, found poker games to sit in on and were quickly engaged in that particular pastime. Bart walked straight to saloon girl Lolly McGee and asked her to share a table and talk to him. She obliged.

"I looked for you yesterday. Where were you all day?"

The girl answered him honestly. "I rented a buggy and drove to Claytonville."

"You did? Why?"

She turned her head away from him before she answered. "I went to the Providence Club to apply for a job there."

"You're gonna leave Little Bend?" Bart asked her.

"Yes, I am." There was no hesitation in her voice at all.

"Because of me?" The question sounded – desperate.

She shook her head and turned back to face him. "No, because of me."

"I . . . I don't understand." Now the tone of voice was pleading.

"I never intended to stay here in Little Bend for the rest of my life. After what happened between you and me, it's time for me to go."

"But . . . Lolly . . . I don't want you to go."

He meant it, and she knew that he meant it. But he didn't want her to stay for the reasons that were important to her. "You may not want me to go, Bart, but this isn't about you; it's about me and what I need. And I need to leave. I got hired and start work next week. That's just enough time for me to get moved and settled into a new place."

"Please stay here . . . with me." Bart had taken her hands in his, and he held onto them tightly.

"I can't, honey, I just can't. That ain't good for either one of us. You'll wanna leave someday soon, too, but it'll be with your brother. And I need to go now, while I still can."

"Lolly, I . . . I wish you wouldn't."

She withdrew her hands from his. "It's for the best."

"I . . . I just . . . is there anything I can say to change your mind?"

' _Yes,'_ she wanted to scream. _'You can tell me we'll go to California . . . together.'_ But that's not what she said. "No, honey, there isn't. Not a thing. You stay here and do what's best for you, and I'll go on to Claytonville and do what's best for me. No hard feelin's, alright?"

Bart leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "If that's what you really want."

' _No, it's not what I want at all,'_ she thought. What she said was, "It's what I want."

TBC


	10. Monday, Two Weeks Later

Chapter 10 – _Monday, Two Weeks Later_

Bart laid down his cards. He didn't have to say anything, the three little ladies with a pair of tens did all the talking for him. It was the third straight hand he'd won, even if he wasn't paying as much attention as usual. The cards just kept coming his way.

It was the first decent night of poker he'd had since Lolly McGee left for Claytonville. All his concentration, his luck, and his skill seemed to have migrated with her, and he wasn't sure which one he missed the most – Lolly and her sweet kisses, or the ability to play poker without thinking about the girl.

Beauregard had looked over to his table several times since they sat down almost two hours ago. Pappy was concerned that Bart's mind wandered off with the girl when she left and was contemplating ways to make his youngest son understand that life had not ended with her departure. His father wasn't the only one worried – older brother Bret knew what a struggle the past two weeks had been, and was praying that something would happen to turn Bart's 'tragedy' into triumph.

Neither had to wait too long on this Monday night. Benny had been looking for a new girl to take Lolly's place, and he'd finally succeeded in hiring one. Seala Marie was new in town and needed a place to get started, and there was a lot that was charming about her. On the tall side for a girl, she had wheat colored hair and eyes so brown they looked like chocolate candies. And a figure that just wouldn't quit. She was a little on the shy side but insisted she could do the job, and Benny decided to let her try.

Monday was her first night of work, and she'd come in wearing a low-cut brown dress with plenty of lace and a big smile. All of the cowboys were glad to see a new female at the saloon, and she'd been quite busy since starting work.

Ray had sent her over to Beauregard first, with a full coffee pot and instructions to "keep the Mavericks happy." She smiled and flirted and was delighted to find the patriarch a gentleman with a pleasant manner and a good sense of humor. Next she found Bret and thought she might die when she saw his dimples.

"Isn't there another one of you somewhere?" she asked the eldest son, and Bret was only too happy to point out his 'little brother,' who was just about to turn eighteen.

"He's kind of shy," Bret informed her, and flashed the dimples again. "And he's got a tender heart."

Seala wandered over to Bart's table. "You like a refill, Mr. Maverick?" she asked, and Bart looked up into those chocolate colored eyes. He blinked before answering her. This was the new saloon girl?

"Yes, ma'am," came his answer, followed by a slight blush of the cheeks. "You're the new girl?"

"I am," she answered. "My name's Seala. Seala Marie. And yours is Bart, isn't it?" She stuck her hand out to him and they shook, and the first thing he noticed was how soft her hand was. And those eyes? They were enough to drive a man wild with desire, and for the first time in two weeks, Bart smiled at a girl.

And the girl smiled back.

The End


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